Beauty and the Beast
by swordofthefang2
Summary: Supernatural AU. Destiel. A sometimes silly and sometimes serious story based loosely on Beauty and the Beast. Alright, maybe not that loosely. Starring Castiel as the "beauty", and Dean as the fearsome beast, living a cursed life alone in his castle. Will Castiel be the one to break the spell? Probably. But read and find out anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Beauty and the Beast.

Chapter 1 - The Castle

* * *

"Hey, Cas, slide that drink down here."

"Get your own, Gabriel. I'm sick of funding your addiction."

Gabriel sighed dramatically and swiveled around on his bar stool. "That's what friends do for one another. It's the 18th century, dude. Get with the times."

"I am with the times. I'm very much with the times. I know all about the things that are occurring in the times and none of them-and I mean none-condone supporting your friend's alcoholism."

"Sh! Look, there he is!"

"Who?" Castiel turned around to follow Gabriel's gaze. The front door to the tiny inn they were visiting opened with a jingle and in stepped none other than Lucifer himself. "Oh, _god_. Not that guy."

"Isn't he dreamy?" Gabriel asked with a wicked smile. He batted his eyelashes and wagged his eyebrows at Castiel.

"If you're into hairy men with a penchant for murdering small animals and then bragging about it, I suppose I have to say yes."

"You're the only one in town who doesn't fawn over him like a filly in heat," Gabriel remarked.

"Yeah, because I can see him for who he really is. An insufferable fool with the IQ of a gnat."

"Harsh."

"Don't tell me you think otherwise? Gabe, c'mon. Look at him." Lucifer strode across the room like he owned the goddamn building, his burly arms swinging by his sides. He wore a skin-tight red shirt to show off his muscles, his bow slung over his shoulders. He stared lewdly at every female he walked by and finally settled in one of the larger chairs positioned towards the middle of the dining area. A crowd immediately collected around him.

"I agree he's not the brightest star in the sky, but he's nice to look at."

Castiel thought otherwise. There had always been something sneaky about Lucifer's face, like behind his dull visage existed a clever mind that was continuously plotting the town's downfall. Cas suspected the real reason people were so nice to him was because they were frightened of him. He was a little scared, too. He didn't like the way Lucifer was currently staring at him either. Oh, _no_. He'd caught Castiel staring back. He quickly looked away and focused on the dark swirling liquid of his ale.

It took only half a minute before he heard Lucifer's thundering footfalls coming his way.

"You're on your own, kid." Gabriel left a few coins for his tab and disappeared.

"Thanks," Castiel muttered darkly.

"Hello, Castiel," Lucifer said as he sidled up to him and leaned against the bar to Cas's left.

Castiel hardly glanced his way. "Lucifer," he responded.

"That's not a very warm welcome," Lucifer said, one brow arching.

"Sorry," Castiel said, though it was obvious he wasn't sorry at all.

Lucifer's expression transformed into something fierce. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded. "I know. It's that crackpot old man you live with. He's teaching you all sorts of bad manners."

Castiel turned and glared at Lucifer. "Don't speak about my father that way."

"It's true though, isn't it? And you know it. He's a fool." Lucifer looked him up and down, his lips curling distastefully. "And it seems he's raising one as well."

Castiel jumped to his feet, taking a step towards Lucifer. "I said don't speak about him that way."

"Or what?" Lucifer demanded with a laugh. "You'll jump up and bang your head on my ass? Ha! You're good for a laugh, little Castiel. Go run home to your father and tell him everything I said. It's all true."

Castiel didn't care that Lucifer was at least a good foot taller than him. His father was a brilliant man. A little too ambitious for his own health at times, but brilliant just the same.

"Break it up," said the barkeeper from behind the counter. "No fightin' in my inn, ya hear me?"

Lucifer looked down at Castiel and smirked before moving off. "Oh, and when you're riding home, watch out for wolves, Castiel. I wouldn't want anything to happen to such a sweet humble man like yourself." The crowd seated at Lucifer's table all erupted into loud laughter.

Castiel glared at Lucifer's retreating back and seethed in silence. IQ of a gnat, he reminded himself. Lucifer wasn't worth it. He gathered his coat and paid for his drink before slipping out the front door and into the snow. His Belgian draft horse, Bobby, was tethered to a post outside under the inn's small shelter. He looked up when Castiel crunched his way through the freshly fallen drifts. "Hey, boy," he said softly, rubbing the large horse's nose. Bobby sniffed at Castiel's hands, but upon discovering he had no treats, lost all interest in him. "Ready to go?"

Castiel had never meant to stay in town for so long. His home was on the outskirts of the village and it was a struggle to reach even during the day-much less at night. He checked the saddlebags to make sure none of his goods had been tampered with and removed the unlit lantern from Bobby's other side. The moon provided an adequate amount of light, especially when it reflected off the snow, but it wasn't enough to help him maneuver the forest safely by himself. Where had Gabriel run off to? His small black horse was still waiting patiently beside Bobby.

It didn't matter. Gabriel had left him alone with Lucifer. The man could fend for himself. Castiel lit the lantern and hooked it back on Bobby's saddle, swinging himself effortlessly up into the seat after he untied his horse from the post. They headed back through town and Castiel noticed just how beautiful it was at night. It was illuminated by the gentle glow of dozens of lanterns, their orange hue filling the circle of buildings with warmth despite the cold weather. Only a few other people were out at that time of night, and they hurried down the sidewalks towards their respective homes. Castiel couldn't blame them. He was ready to be home too.

"Come on, Bobby," Castiel whispered. Bobby's ears swiveled back and he sped up into an unwilling jog after Castiel squeezed his sides. They left the light of the village and entered the forest only a few moments later. Bobby increased his speed until they were bumping along at a fast paced trot. It seemed Castiel wasn't the only one eager to be home, where there was warmth and food. He imagined the soup he had prepared earlier before he left for town and felt his mouth water.

A sudden noise to the left caught his attention and Castiel strained to hear it over the plodding of Bobby's hooves. What had Lucifer said about wolves? It was probably nothing. The idiot had been trying to scare him was all. He knew there were wolves somewhere in the forest, but they were much further away where the trees were tall and dense and blotted out all the light.

The deeper they got into the forest, the more Castiel was convinced they were being followed. Lucifer had done it. He'd won. He'd scared him, and it was starting to make Bobby nervous. "We're almost home," Castiel said quietly, looking around them in all directions. The light from his small lantern produced a meager glow, but it was enough to brighten the path. He looked to his left and squinted at a blurry shape in the darkness. The light from the lantern reflected off a pair of golden eyes, but the glare was gone in an instant. That didn't matter. Castiel had seen it. Wolves.

Bobby smelled them the moment Castiel realized his imagination wasn't playing tricks on him. The massive horse surged into action, speeding through the spiny undergrowth of the woods. He broke a path in the fresh snow effortlessly, but Castiel feared his size and speed wouldn't be enough to help them evade the predators. He looked back and nearly fell off. A wolf was running behind them in the open trail the horse had created in the snow. Castiel was looking death in the face.

"Go, go!" he shouted, kicking Bobby's sides roughly. The horse snorted but quickened his pace and Castiel held on for dear life. If he fell off they would get him first. He was defenseless.

Castiel wasn't even sure if they were still on the right track. The trees and snow all blurred around him as he struggled to stay on and control his breathing and racing heart. Bobby was starting to tire. He slowed to a canter and broke through a line of trees where the snow had fallen freely in large amounts. It was a struggle for him to wade through the drifts, and Castiel looked around them in all directions for the wolves. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were still there. He also looked around for familiar landmarks and saw none. Where had Bobby taken them?

They continued on at a lope for quite a while, delving deeper into the dark forest. The trees were starting to grow larger. He'd never been out this far. Not alone, at least. His father had warned him a curse lay upon these woods, and to never venture farther than could be helped. His father was always saying odd things, so Castiel chalked it up to being one of the stories parents told their children so they would obey them out of fear. He didn't want Cas to get lost in the woods. It was a scare tactic. Evil curses and all that voodoo nonsense were just that: nonsense.

A howl split the air behind them and Bobby reared, flying out from underneath Castiel. With a cry, Castiel fell to the cold forest floor, dazed from the hard fall. The wind had been knocked out of him and he rolled on his back, gasping for air. He wasn't left too much time to collect himself. Another wolf answered the first one's howl, and that wolf was much closer. Cas scrambled to his feet and took off at a run. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stay there.

It didn't take long for him to grow winded. He slowed to a stop, hands on his knees as he drew in great lungfuls of air. Damn that horse. Castiel knew all of this wasn't really Bobby's fault, but he was angry and scared and blaming something other than himself pleased him. So, yeah. It was all Bobby's fault.

A growl erupted from the silence and Castiel whirled around, eyes wide. A wolf trotted out from behind a tree, its golden eyes trained on Castiel's exposed throat. He'd always been told to never run from a predator, but what else could he do? All he had were his empty hands and a pair of freshly moistened underwear. So he ran.

Trying to outrun a pack of wolves was pointless. He had to find a place to hide, or at least a tree that was good for climbing. His side burned and his legs felt like noodles by the time he happened upon it. It was larger than any house he had ever seen in his life, rising like a bony claw from the frozen landscape. It was tall and thin, tapering to a point on the top with a single turret. Gargoyles glared at him as he hobbled towards the front gate. It was black like the rest of the mansion and a heavy solid iron. Cas gave the gate a tug and the door moved with a groan. He managed to open it wide enough to squeeze his body through, and once he was in, he muscled it back into place.

Just in time as well. The wolves all exploded from the forest and paused when they saw him behind the gate, their tails raised and eyes staring, confused, at the mysterious contraption separating them from their prey.

Castiel felt like he was about to faint. After he was sure the wolves wouldn't be able to get inside, he turned and started towards the large door of the mansion. It was an intimidating and imposing piece of architecture, and several times he could have sworn the gargoyles guarding the building moved and shifted closer to him as he walked. It looked abandoned, but in any case he wouldn't be able to make it home that night. He was chilled to the bone and he could still hear the wolves outside the fence. If nothing else, it would be able to provide shelter.

Castiel raised his hand and knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural or Beauty and the Beast.

**Author's Note:** Have you ever written something and thought the what fuck is wrong with me

Chapter 2

* * *

"Sam, did you hear that? It sounded like a knock."

"A knock? Who'd be knocking at this time of night?"

"Oh, is there some sort of prime time for knocking, then?"

"Typically around midday. You know, when everyone's awake. Who'd be knocking anyway? You're imagining things."

Garth hopped across the rug, careful to keep the lit candles on his arms from touching any fabric. "You're taller than me. Take a quick peek through the peephole and tell me if you see anyone."

Sam rolled his eyes but moved himself from his favorite resting spot against the wall. He was a rather large clock, tall to boot, and sometimes he got over balanced when he moved too quickly. Years upon years of practise never seemed enough when a wrinkle in the rug was involved. "Move over." Sam crept up to the door and bent his frame so he could peer out the peephole. "You're kidding me."

"What? What?"

"I can't believe it."

"Can't believe what? Don't leave me hanging, man!" Sam was silent as he stared a while longer out the peephole. "Sam, you're gonna get peepeye. Hurry up and tell me what you see."

Sam turned to look down at him. "It's a man. A young man."

"Really? I told you!"

"You didn't say anything about a young man."

"I clearly recall mentioning a young attractive man was knocking on the door."

Sam let loose a long suffering sigh. "What should we do?"

"Let him in, of course!"

"But Dean…"

"Will not be any the wiser. Move over, you big galoot." Sam shifted out of the way and Garth hopped up and hung from the doorknob. He twisted it with all his might and grinned when the door opened and swung inward. The man outside looked startled, his eyes wide. He leaned forward and squinted.

"Hello?"

"Down here!" Garth chimed in.

The man looked down and recoiled. "W-what? How?"

"I know I'm thin, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal."

"You're a candlestick."

"I'm a candlestick _holder_." Garth pushed the door open wider and motioned for the man to enter. "Garth's the name. Pleased to meet you."

"Castiel," the man said faintly as he gazed beyond Garth into the castle. "How…?"

"It's a long story. You look a little cold. Why don't you come in and we'll talk?"

"I… I don't know. My father warned me about - about strange things like this."

Garth's eyes narrowed. "He warned you about talking candlesticks?"

"Well, no. It was more like strange things in general."

"Are you gonna stand out there in the cold calling me names all night, or are you coming in?"

Castiel looked back at the gate and sighed. He had no other choice. "I guess I'm coming in."

Sam, who had been shielded from view behind the door, furrowed his painted on brows nervously. If Castiel was wary of a candlestick, how was he going to react to a giant clock? His question was answered for him when Garth closed the door and Castiel turned to face him and promptly fell over. "Is he ok?" Sam demanded.

Garth hopped over to Castiel's head. "It looks like he fainted."

"This was a bad idea. Let's just drag him back outside and leave him."

"Sam, it's cold out there. He'll die."

Sam moved from one standing peg to another anxiously. "Dean's not going to be happy about this. You know how he is about strangers."

"I know exactly how he is about strangers, and that's why Castiel here has to stay. Look at him! He's young and beautiful, and he didn't run away immediately when he saw me. He's perfect."

"The whole point of the curse was to teach Dean _not_ to be so concerned with himself and the way people look, remember?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt."

Sam frowned, his expression pensive. "Fine. He can stay. But if Dean gets upset, I'm telling him it was all your idea."

"Great! Now you carry him into the study."

Castiel woke up wrapped in a blanket on a chair in front of a roaring fire. He felt warm and toasty and dry. Where was he? He glanced around him at all of the unfamiliar things and curled tighter in on himself. It didn't look or smell like home. He knew he wasn't dreaming because his dreams were never so vivid.

"Castiel, you're awake!" said a voice to his right. Castiel flinched and closed his eyes. He recognized that voice. It all came flooding back in a dizzying rush and Cas felt sick. "It's really alright, you know. We're not going to hurt you. We want to help you."

The fire crackled in the silence after Garth spoke. It was a while before he could pluck up the courage to respond. "I'm just a little alarmed. And confused. This situation goes against everything I ever believed."

"There are a lot of things in this world you don't know about that would change your beliefs yet again."

"I'm sure of it," Castiel responded quietly.

"I promised you an explanation, and you'll get one. Just not right now. You're weak and still suffering from the effects of the cold. Take your time and recover. I'll have one of the servants bring you a bowl of soup."

There had to be a catch. Wasn't there always a catch? Castiel decided he was too tired and hungry to care much. "Thank you."

Garth smiled and disappeared. Castiel sat in silence for a while, gazing without seeing at the fire. He didn't realize a tall dark figure had been slowly moving closer to him until he looked over and saw the clock from earlier.

"I'm sorry I frightened you before," the clock said sheepishly. "I'm Sam, by the way."

Castiel tried not to cower or show any adverse reaction to Sam's presence. "Castiel. And you just startled me. I wasn't expecting a… I wasn't expecting to see you there." What a curious thing Sam was. How did he exist? How did any of this exist? Perhaps he _had_ died alone in the woods after all and this was some sort of freakish afterlife.

"Most people haven't responded well to my appearance after the curse."

"Curse?" Castiel asked eagerly.

"I think Garth would be better at explaining it." Sam's voice had a very sad tone to it.

Castiel mind was racing a mile a minute. A curse. Had his father been telling the truth, then? Not entirely convinced this wasn't all some strange hallucination, Castiel nodded. "That's ok. I can wait."

A moment later the sound of tiny wheels on hard wood floors echoed through the halls. A tray suddenly appeared by his side fully stocked with tea and a steaming bowl of soup. Castiel didn't hesitate to reach out and take the bowl into his lap.

"Now," Garth said, climbing on top of the tray to better address Castiel. "You want to hear the story, correct?"

Castiel nodded and spooned the soup into his mouth with gusto. "It's a story unlike any other you have ever heard before. It's the story about The Beast."


End file.
